Sing of the Rhine and Lovers Lost
by Leeson
Summary: Their journey, ten meetings. "We aren’t friends." Literati. Short, sweet and to the point.
1. May 8, 2003

**Sing of the Rhine** by Leeson  
All characters belong to their respective owners, and I claim nothing except the idea.

**NOTE**: This is probably the sanest story I've ever written. It's straight forward. No bullshit, metaphores of symbolism. It is ten chapter, 2-10 are mostly dialogue. However, all the **chapters **are very, very **short**. The longest chapter is the penultimate chapter, chapter nine, and it is **less than 500 words**. I warn you now, if you're looking for my usual verbose, schizophrenic, confusing fic, you will be disappointed. If you are looking for an intricate, tightly-woven story with a large plot and a lot of attention needed, you will be disappointed. The chapters are short, easy to read and the story is easy to follow. Everything, except the last chapter, is dated and a lot of it is obvious by it's place in canon, in the places I've left canon in place. If you're fine with all that, **happy reading**!

---

**May 8, 2003**

The last time—she swears it is the last, it has to be—he's staring at her, receipts in hand and lacking any expression.

She sighs and pushes her hair behind her ear. She's supposed to walk away again, for the last time. She's supposed to leave him behind. Before she can, though, she's sitting at the counter, a mug of coffee in hand.

So, he starts talking. Nothing particularly important, just about current events. Affirmative action, George W. Bush and taxes, Iraq. Safe areas that have nothing to do with them, the party or his ultimate failure.

She drinks her coffee and listens to him talk, surprised he even has opinions on any of these things.

After so much, though, his entire gear shifts. He tells her about himself, all the things she never knew. He tells her why his mom sent him to Stars Hollow, why he came back, why Shane, why he didn't give up. He tells her about school, about work at Wal-Mart and at the diner. He tells her his feelings about his mother, about Luke, about Stars Hollow, about her, about Yale and about Dean.

He's never been honest with her, he's honest about that. He's never told her anything beyond books and music; he's never shared who he is with her.

And the finality of his honesty strikes her, endures long after she's gone from the diner and long after she's missed the funeral. Long after Lorelai awkwardly tells her that he skipped town without a word.

And long after she tells her mother about those words…that there were a million of them.


	2. September 15, 2003

**September 15, 2003 **

"Thought you left," she whispers to the night, careful not to wake Paris.

Three thousand miles between them and the first thing he can do is shrug. "Yeah, well…" he trails off, nowhere to take the line of thought.

She looks down, fingering a loose thread on her sheet. "How'd you get my number?"

He doesn't reply, lets the question hang in the air until there's no use in answering it anymore.

"It's midnight," she revises. There's no use asking questions, she realises. He won't answer any of them, anyway.

As always, he changes the subject in a tone almost as soft as hers. "How was Europe?"

Rory smiles at the thought, a thought she hasn't been fortunate enough to dwell on. "It was…I loved it."

"Figured you would." He's so sure of himself, but there are cartoon noises in the background and it makes everything he says seem like a little boy playing at manhood.

She gives up her own rule almost immediately after establishing it. "Where are you?"

Jess shrugs. "Here and there. California, currently."

California brings back thought, hate for years of abandonment, and it seems almost fitting in their situation. She really is her mother. "Sunny."

"Sometimes."

She glances over at Paris, checking to make certain she's still sleeping. "What's in California?"

He considers, vaguely, telling her, but he doesn't. "Really ugly hats."

She sighs. "I should sleep."

He nods. "Yeah."

"Will you call again?"

But the line is dead.


	3. January 29, 2004

**January 29, 2004 **

"Um, is that--?" Lorelai intones, already sure of what the answer will be.

Rory nods her head numbly. He's called her once since disappearing, sent a birthday card and a Christmas card. She didn't expect to see him, though.

"What is he doing here? Sleeping in his car—is he living in his car?"

This time, she shakes her head. "No, he's…" she trails off, because he might be.

"Rory?"

She looks at her mother and sighs. "He can't be living in his car. He's smarter than that."

Lorelai looks vaguely upset. "What aren't you telling me?"

"Nothing."

"Rory?"

She sighs again but, instead of answering her mother, knocks on Jess' window.

Jess is jarred awake by the racket and hits his head on the ceiling before groaning and opening the door, slamming it behind him. "What?" he asks, angrily, before seeing Rory and Lorelai. "Oh."

"Sorry I woke you up."

"It isn't…" He waves it off. "It's fine."

"So…"

"So…"

Rory nods. "How's California?"

Lorelai protests, but Jess answers anyway. "Sunny."

"Thanks," she tries. "Uh, for the cards, I mean. It was nice."

She smiles and walks away, dragging her mother behind her.

---

Sorry to interrupt your flow. The next chapter may not be posted until Monday, possibly Tuesday. I work tomorrow and Saturday, and I'm hosting a party on Sunday. I think I enroll on Monday. So, Happy Weekend, y'all.


	4. May 22, 2004

**May 22, 2004 **

"Long time, no see."

He shrugs. "Only three months. It was longer last time."

"But would I be seeing you now if it weren't for last time?"

He shrugs again. "Probably not. Just thought I'd come see you, since I'm around anyway."

Rory raises an eyebrow. "Around anyway?"

"Liz. Wedding. I'm giving her away."

"That's not a very Jess Mariano thing to do."

He shrugs.

Se smiles at him. "So, just swinging by to say hi, hitting the wedding and vanishing into the sunset."

"Basically. Stretched out over a few days, though. Wanna come?"

"Vanishing into the sunset?"

He laughs, freer than she'd ever seen him. "I'm not stupid. Remember? You're the one that always said it." He shook his head. "To the wedding."

She looks at him apprehensively.

"As friends."

She, once again, raises her eyebrow. "Is that what we are? Friends?"

Jess scratches his neck anxiously. "Someday in the distant to very distant future."

"Cake?"

"Renaissance."

She beams. "Silly, frilly outfits and minstrels and giant turkey legs?"

He nods.

"Do I get to dress all fruity?"

He shrugs, something that was starting to annoy Rory. "If you want."

She grins.


	5. November 1, 2005

**November 1, 2005 **

"Hey."

She doesn't want to dance around the issue, or hide behind false pretenses. "We slept together."

He stares at her, blankly.

"After your mothers wedding." When he doesn't respond, she continues. "At my dorm. Twice."

He still doesn't answer.

It all frustrates her. "Fine! Give it back, then!"

"I don't have anything."

"I don't mean…I never…" She gestures at him with her hands, but then slams them to her head. "Give it back!"

Jess freezes, ignoring the looks her neighbors are giving them. "Not really something I can return."

"If I can return that same damn sweater forty times, you can return it!"

He shakes his head. "Not really. It's not a material good, therefore…"

She glares at him. "You're an ass."

"You haven't seen me in eighteen months. I really—"

"Proof that you're an ass. You sleep with me, and you vanish into the sun…well…rise, and then you don't pop up for over a year."

He shrugs. "Didn't want to intrude."

"Never stopped you before."

He walks past her and into the apartment she shares with Paris. "When are you going to get that I'm actually different?"

She turns to look at him. "When are you going to show me? Because that? That was something so very Jess-like."

He throws a thin paperback onto the coffee table and begins to walk out. "Enjoy the read." The door slams, as if to punctuate the statement.


	6. April 11, 2006

**April 11, 2006 **

"Surprise."

"You came."

"You invited me," she reminds. When he doesn't respond, she continues. "I reviewed your book, for the Yale Daily News. Well, I was actually busy, so I made Paris review it. It was generally positive."

He nods.

"I'm editor, so I sort of get to make people do what I have no time for."

He nods again. "Luke came. Brought April."

She nods in return. "Good kid."

"Seems like."

As if cued, April approaches them. "Rory! Hey!" The two hug and April continues. "They have this really awful poet—" she turns to Jess, "—no offense."

"Not my poet, but I'll pass it along to Matt."

"Wanna come mock him? Luke doesn't understand poetry."

Rory purses her lips. "Uh, maybe later. I just wanted to talk to Jess for a minute."

April smiles. "Okay." She runs off, back to Luke.

Rory stares at Jess for a few moments. "I wanted to apologize, for last time. I was out of line."

"Nah." He waves it off. "I deserved it. You're right: I was an ass."

"Not anymore?"

He shrugs. "I have my moments, but not generally."

Rory smiles at him. "You did good, with the book and Truncheon. I'm proud of you."

He's awkward about the comment and fidgets with his ignored beer.. "I should get back to mingling with the masses."

She nods. "Okay. I'll go mock Matt's poet."

He kisses the side of her mouth; a friendly gesture that neither looks into any further. "See you, then."


	7. June 3, 2006

**June 3, 2006 **

"I didn't know you could dance," is her surprised response to his moves on the dance floor.

"Well," he begins, before confiding, "I couldn't. Chris gave me a few pointers."

She smirks. "That was nice of him."

He shrugs. "The best man and maid of honor, traditionally, dance together. Figured it would be smart."

"Their playing by the 'dance with the one that brought you' rule."

"Yeah, well, Chris can't pull off that dress," he replies, referring to the simple blue dress. It's actually very much like the one she wore as Sookie's bridesmaid.

She chuckles and smiles widely as she spots Miss Patty staring at them. She ducks her head and whispers against his throat, "I think Patty's patrolling us."

"What do you propose, Ms. Gilmore?"

She grins. "Why do I have a feeling you have an idea?"

"It involves slapping, crying, declarations of love and a proposal."

She raises an eyebrow. "Isn't that a bit over-the-top?"

"Just slap me and run away crying."

"There are other people here, and they will _all_ take this seriously," she replies and laughs. Before he can respond, though; she slaps him, turns on her heel and storms off in tears.

Everyone, absolutely everyone, stops dancing or eating to watch the scene as Jess chases after her. He reaches her after only a few metres, still in view of the entire reception.

He turns her around, deliberately overacting his part. "Rory, my love, my dear, I love you." He reaches out, pointlessly, as if a model on the cover of a romance novel.

"Oh, Jess," she cries, melodramatically. She clutches a hand to her heart, as if the female on that same novel cover. "I love you, too!"

"Oh, Rory," he continues with the same dramatic, overacted tone. "I can't stand to hide it any longer! Run off with me! Become my wife!"

She, in turn, sighs happily, false tears of false joy trailing down her cheeks. "Jess, my darling, of course!"

And with that, Jess grabs her hand and they run until sure no one will hear them as they collapse with uproarious laughter.


	8. November 3, 2006

**November 3, 2006 **

"I haven't been with anyone since you," she admits the next time they see one another, over drinks in her apartment, with Paris and Doyle. Both of whom have, by this time, passed out.

"You haven't had sex with anyone else?"

She shakes her head. "No! But, not what I meant. I meant you… I haven't had a boyfriend since you."

He's far less affected by the booze than she or her roommates, and wisely chooses to change the subject. "How did the debacle at the wedding turn out?"

"Oh!" she yelps, hiccoughing and jostling, nearly waking, Paris. "Patty and Kirk and Babette and…some other people are still convinced it was real. They…" she hiccoughs again, "…want you to come so we can have a proper wedding reception. To Stars Hollow." She takes a pull off of her beer, the soapy taste flooding her mouth and coating her throat. "You're baby sister is the cutest little girl ever!"

Jess nods in agreement. "She's gonna be a looker."

Rory looks at him, utterly surprised. "That's creepy."

"You should head to bed."

Rory shakes her head, part of it seeming to clear slightly. "You aren't driving back to Philly tonight. It's really, really, really, really late and you've been up for forty-some hours and you've been drinking. You should sleep here."

"I'll sleep on the couch."

She looks beside her, on the couch, at Paris and Doyle, fast asleep. "I don't see that happening."

"I'll sleep on the floor."

She shakes her head. "Nope. It's, like, really hard. Not like Lucy and Olivia's floor. Their floor is soft."

"I'll sleep in Paris and Doyle's room."

"I think their retinas get scanned to access that room. Just…" she waved her hand lazily. "Sleep in my room. We're adults."

"Adults with alcohol in our system and a sexual history," he reminds.

She shakes her head. "Oh, I'm passing out as soon as my head hits that pillow."

He looks at her seriously for a minute before standing up. "I'm holding you to that."

---

Nine will be posted tomorrow and ten will be posted on the twenty sixth. Also: Happy Chanukah. I know it's almost over, but I hope it's been a good one. And a belated blessing on anyone's Solstice. :)


	9. June 2, 2008

**June 2, 2008**

"Remember, just before I left?" he asks. They're in her room at the old Twickham house and it's decorated tastefully in blue, green and yellow and it's been nearly two years since she's heard that voice. "When we talked?"

"You talked," she corrects.

Lorelai and Luke were surprised to find him on the porch, more so when he asked for Rory. They still haven't been informed on what exactly Rory and Jess' relationship is.

"Yeah, well…" He shrugs. "I talked, and I told you everything."

"The first time you ever told me anything," she reminds, still typing into her laptop.

He nods. "Fair." He starts again. "I want to do that again."

She turns in her chair. "Talk away."

He starts talking about the upcoming elections, the reform policies and taxes. He continues, giving his stance on public issues before segueing into the more private aspect of it.

He talks about his mother, how he forgives her. And about his dad, how he finally understands him and how he knows Jimmy screws up, but he also knows he tries. He tells her how he feels about Luke, how grateful he is to his uncle for trying so hard for so long. "God help me, I even appreciate Lorelai."

She cracks a smile.

He smiles back. "Despite her kooky name, I actually really like Doula. And Lily and April. I'm glad Jimmy has Sasha, because he would be completely lost without someone."

He lists other things, on and on, about Connecticut, California, New York and Pennsylvania. About people she doesn't know or people she's only ever met once. He talks about people from before he ever met her, about how he still talks to Shane and is happy for her and the life she's found for herself. He talks about church, which he apparently attends even though he can't quite let himself believe the Book, and about his community. He talks about his co-workers and his employees and his book and the one he's currently writing.

He talks about everything under the sun until the moon and stars are the only things lighting her room.

And then he tells her to talk.

She doesn't have as much to say. "I'm not up to date on politics, so I'll skip that part." She smiles tightly. She tells him how she's happy for everyone. How she loves Luke and Lorelai together. How Lane and Zack are so lucky to have each other and how she feels about Dean and Lindsays approaching fifth anniversary. She talks about her grandparents, about Gigi and April. About Paris, Lucy and Olivia. "And—"

But, he interrupts her. "I'm in love with you."

She pauses, looks at her hands and finishes her sentence. "And I'm happy we're finally friends."

---

The longest chapter, the penultimate chapter, and the saddest chapter. I wrote this chapter seven times and I'm still not happy with anything except the last two lines, but I hope you'll be more fond of it. Merry Christmas!


	10. And Lovers Found

"This is surreal," she whispers into the phone.

He grunts over the line, confused at the entire situation.

She sighs. "It's Rory. I'm done with graduate school. It's surreal. You're ruining my wonderment."

"The why the fuck did you call me?" he whines over the line, missing the sleep she's stealing from him.

She shrugs. "I don't know," she lies.

He rubs his eyes with the heels of his hand, holding the phone between ear and shoulder. He yawns. "Wonder.

"What?"

"You said I was ruining you're wonderment. I'll stop now. Wonder."

Rory grins. "I have my M.A. and my M.S. and a ton of experience and some fantastic job offers. I'm going to take over the fucking world."

He's not used to hearing her swear and even if he hasn't talked to her since that day in the blue-green-yellow room, years and years ago, it still rings off key. "That's great. How'd you put it? 'I'm proud of you?'" he quotes.

She grins even wider. "And I think I'll like spending my time with paper and ink instead of war zones and warriors."

"Cheaper dry cleaning?" he quips.

She chuckles. "I start my new job as a fantastic reporter in two weeks, too. I already chose where I'll be."

"New York Times? Washington Post?--"

She interrupts, "Philadelphia Metro."

"Rory," he reprimands.

With a sigh, she knocks her fist on the door. "The Times would mean talking to the people that work at the times."

He sighs, ready to respond as he answers the door.

"And the people at the times really aren't the type that are easy to get along with."

"What are you doing here, Rory?"

She tilts her head to the side, visibly apprehensive. "I'm in love with you."

He looks her straight in the eye. "And I'm happy we're—"

"We aren't friends," she interrupts.

He doesn't say anything, just grabs her around the waist and kisses her.

**FIN **

--

The last 332 words. It's a weak ending, but it's all the way it is. Happy Kwanzaa!


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